


She Wants Revenge

by NonbinaryHylian (chicagoartnerd)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Body Horror, Consensual Non-Consent, Edgeplay, F/M, Gore, Guro, Knife Play, M/M, Medical Kink, Medical Torture, Snuff, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-18 17:10:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18254222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicagoartnerd/pseuds/NonbinaryHylian
Summary: Pharma and Tarn have an arrangement. What happens in cyberspace between holomatter avatars stays there...until one day on the operating table it doesn't.





	She Wants Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS GOOD AND PURE READ THE TAGS.  
> This is edgeplay. This is consensual but violent because the characters are fucked up as you know. But if you've read the tags and are like "Ooooo hell yeah" then enjoy! I certainly enjoyed writing it. Also might help to listen to "Tear You Apart" by She Wants Revenge while reading this, it certainly helped me write it.

They always met in the same set of crumbling buildings. It was something Pharma had constructed in their shared digital landscape. He didn’t question it really, some sort of prefabricated earth dwellings, nameless decrepit apartments in the darkest part of a dim city. When he logged on in the silence of his berth at night he was in the hallway outside the door that lead to that stark apartment. Sometimes they went elsewhere but they always ended up here. Whenever he saw that faded white door he had felt a shiver of what was to come and it made his internals jerk in anticipation. 

Holomatter avatars approximated organic bodies and if you knew what your were doing they could long outlive the sort of damage that would kill the average human. They both knew exactly what they were doing. 

When he came to see Pharma like this she had a feminine holoform and liked to be referred to as her. He didn’t really care either way, the organic body was just an excuse. An obfuscation that offered deniability about how much they actually wanted to do this when they were together in person. She opened the door and her cold blue eyes regarded him hungrily from behind thin silver glasses. 

Her holomatter avatar was a thing of beauty, thin delicate legs and powerful arms, she had put it together meticulously. Shoulder length blonde hair streaked with white, long thin nose, severe cheekbones, her thin lips often parted to reveal far too many teeth for an organic. She always wore a white lab coat and some sort of white dress, the blood always showed up brightly on them. His avatar was not much to look at, large and broad in the chest, long dark hair in a ponytail, think lidded golden eyes, and he always wore a muzzle. Dark Decepticon purple it covered his mouth and held his screams back in its dark recesses. 

She opened the door wider and he entered. 

The entire apartment was shrouded in gray shadows except for the long black couch in front of him. It was lit on both sides by harsh fluorescent medical lights. Tarn sat down heavily in the middle and watched her. This part was the start of the thrill. She turned around, back to him, and carefully pulled back her hair and secured it with a tie. He watched her flit through the shadows of the apartment on high black heels as she gathered her tools. They weren’t new every time but she did like to surprise him sometimes. 

Tonight she appeared to want to use her knives. 

She brought them and placed them all on the metal tray and laid it down on the arm of the couch. He turned and inspected them and nodded approvingly. She rolled her icy eyes. They both knew she would use whatever she wanted to on him however she wanted and he would enjoy it. They had been here too many times for him to play coy and yet they both did. She didn’t have to wear the black nitrile gloves, there were no pathogens here in cyberspace, but they both liked the feel of them. He liked it when they caught and pulled on his skin and she enjoyed how slick they were when they were covered in his blood. 

Pharma pulled them over her nimble fingers and let the wrist band snap, the sound rang like the crack of a whip and he felt himself getting hard already. Humans tended to have either a spike or a valve, not both like Cybertronians, and they could have bypassed that little caveat if they had wanted to but this was part of the game. The fragile limitations of their fleshy bodies was were all the fun was. 

Pharma moved onto his lap in one fluid motion, throwing her leg over his hip and pinning him by the shoulders with her hands. Sometimes she didn’t do this, sometimes there was no foreplay to the violence. Tarn left it entirely up to her discretion. He would take anything she was willing to give to him and they both knew it. She ran one of her gloved hands down his throat before grabbing it hard. He gasped as she squeezed the air up and out his lips behind his muzzle. 

She leaned in and whispered in his ear. “No sounds tonight. No moans, no screams, nothing. If you do make a sound I’ll stop and leave the simulation. Nod if you understand.”

Even though she was still squeezing his throat hard enough to stop his breath he nodded against her gloved hand and she smiled. Razors and glass. Far, far too many teeth for an organic. 

She let go of his throat and he sucked in air in a hiss but made no sound. She seemed to approve because she nodded slightly before shifting her attention to his shirt. Depending on how she wanted it sometimes she would cut it off him. Tonight she was feeling playful it seemed because she undid the buttons on the black button down one by one, taking her time to touch each inch of skin as it was revealed. His chest was covered in puckered white and pink scars, wounds from battle and from her. Tarn wore them with honor and a twisted pride and Pharma eyed each one she saw with hunger.

When she got to the last button she slid the whole garment over his shoulders and pulled it roughly down to his forearms, she then used the extra fabric to tie his hands behind his back, his back arched and chest pushed forward. He could have easily broken free of the shirt tie but he wouldn’t no matter what happened next. Their eyes met and she smiled again, this time with her mouth closed, but it never reached her eyes. 

They had always burned into him with malice and never warmth. He liked to tell himself he was never disappointed with that, there could be no warmth between enemies, but sometimes he had hoped. This simulation was good too though, this was something they both enjoyed. With one hand she reached out and grabbed a scalpel from the tray on the arm of the couch with the other she roughly took his chin and jerked it toward her.

Pharma ran the blade along the seam where his muzzle met his chin and cooed at him wordlessly as blood started to bead and well up from the thin line. The thin sting of the scalpel contrasted with the hot wet tang of his breath and he panted inside the muzzle. She pulled the skin back then dug her gloved nail in to the cut. He jolted but didn’t cry out, she hummed tunelessly as she moved the skin of the cut apart making the blood spill out of it faster. He watched, eyes wide with lust as she took her black gloved hand and carefully licked his blood off her fingers. When she smiled her long white teeth were pink with it. His spike ached but she hadn’t paid it any attention, yet. He licked his lips behind mask and canted his hips up to meet hers. 

She froze and looked down her nose at him with a brow raised. “Really? Tonight you want to rush things? I mean I might as well leave then.”

He froze. He definitely didn’t want her to leave. In the past she had threatened to cut his spike off, which he would have let her do with relish, but he didn’t want her to leave him. He cast his eyes away from her glare and he heard her sigh exasperated before he felt the razor thin bite of the scalpel again, this time on his chest. She was teasing him with a bunch of small shallow cuts slit into his soft skin. 

To do this to Cybertronian plating would have been difficult and mostly bloodless, that wasn’t what either of them desired. He avidly watched her concentrate on slicing through him with just the lightest touch, blood welled up but barely ran down along each mark. He didn’t dare move but it was like a itch, barely being touched with something feathery that bit. The sensation was burning a maddening path through his brain module. 

Something shifted between them, he felt it like a change in lighting, she slammed her forearm against his throat as she ground down against his spike. Her other hand was carving deeper runnels down his bicep with the scalpel. He couldn’t breath which was a lightness compared to the burn of the scalpel and the heavy heated throb of his spike against the friction of her grinding hips. 

Pharma’s lips touched his ear and she murmured. “I hate you. I hate you so fragging much. That’s why I’ve killed you every time. I own your life here Tarn and it’s worthless to me.”

She viciously stabbed the scalpel into his upper arm and it went it deep, all the way to where the blade met the handle. At the same time as she sunk the scalpel into him she withdrew her arm and he gasped for air but didn’t cry out. She rose up on his lap and tore the button off the fly on his black slacks as she pulled the zipper down roughly and freed his spike. He shuddered as she took it roughly in her hand and squeezed. Pharma pushed aside her scant white lace panties and sunk her valve down his spike in one quick smooth motion. 

Tarn had to bite his tongue hard enough to draw blood to keep from calling out her name. 

She was hot and perfectly wet. Burning and slick like the pain coursing up his arm where the scalpel was sticking out of it. His chest was shaking as she reached for another scalpel and violently stabbed it into his shoulder opposite the other wound. She reached out and grabbed another and swiped it, cutting deep across his collarbones as her valve clenched against his spike hard and greedy. She dropped the scalpel and planted both her hands against the wound on his collar bones and started to move. Grinding her hips up and down impaling herself on him while her fingers dug deeper into the cut on his collar bones. 

Blood flowed freely and both of them were panting hard as she rode his spike mercilessly. Her gloved hands were slippery and shaking as she reached for a different instrument off her metal tray. The pain in his chest was liquid and gaping open cold against the air of the room. The two burning points of the scalpels in his arms acting like blazing poles he was tethered between and the warm soft clench of her milking his spike was the pleasure dangling him between the pain. She looked him in the eyes and brought the Bowie knife into his view. It was a wicked looking thing and he knew what it meant. She licked it gleefully before taking it both hands and stabbing it down into the center of his chest. He wheezed with the force of it penetrating him. 

Pharma still holding it in his chest she shoved it deeper and he spasmed under her. Her valve was shuddering against his spike in quick pulses as she leaned in and whisper in his ear. “I want to rip you apart Tarn, piece by jagged bloody piece but this is all your slagging body can handle. How disappointing.”

At the last word she ripped the knife out and screamed as she threw it away from them both and sunk her fist into the new red hole in chest. He overloaded at the feeling of her inside his chest, clawing at his viscera, fingers scraping and latching onto the bones of his ribs. The last image flash he saw of her was her white dress and lab coat plastered to her lithe body covered in his deep red blood, it spackled across her snarling mouth and dripped off her hair and glasses. Her blue eyes filled with rage and desire. 

He woke up alone and unharmed in his berth back in the DJD headquarters on Delphi. 

He was dripping from his array, his valve leaking semi-clear blue transfluid. The overloads were real. That much was real. He cleaned himself up and tried not to think of what Pharma was doing now that they were no longer together. Was he also cleaning himself up? Frag it did he even overload? Sometimes Tarn couldn’t tell if he had which worried him. He knew that Pharma enjoyed their game otherwise he would have never initiated it. And both of them kept coming back every few evenings to their shared cyberscape fantasy so he shouldn’t worry. But it seemed like every time they did this it felt like it would be the last time, he didn’t dare ask for more than this but he thought about it.

Especially when Pharma would come to replace his burnt out transformation cog as part of their bargain. 

He was always extremely professional when conducting the surgical replacement but Tarn couldn’t help but be reminded of their evening activities every time Pharma cut him open. He was wondering if gutting him in holomatter form made him feel better about all the Autobots he had to kill to feed Tarn’s transformation addiction. Not that he cared particularly about all those dead enemies but he did care about what Pharma thought of him. Hatred he could understand, loathing was also acceptable. But he didn’t want his disgust. He wanted him to desire hurting him, even if that was the only thing he desired from him. That was quite good enough. He could keep going with that as he tortured and killed his way through the Decepticon’s long list of traitors, deserters, and turn coats. For now. 

Tarn had burnt his way through another T-cog and didn’t like the be kept waiting. Pharma was late. 

When he did finally show up he didn’t give Tarn much of a chance to berate him as he immediately set to work on preparing the T-cog and opening up the spark chamber of a lightly protesting Tarn. His hands were uncharacteristically rough when he started to disconnect the fuel lines that ran to the burnt out cog. Tarn tried not to squirm but something in his body must have given him away because Pharma stopped what he was doing with his hands inside of Tarn’s chest and looked up at him sharply. 

When he spoke it was low. “Does this arouse you too? Do you go back to your command after this with a half pressurized spike and dripping valve pushing at your slagging array?”

Tarn’s vocalizer clicked, it wasn’t often that he was at a loss for words. Pharma growled and started to connect the new T-cog into the pins and pipes in his chest.

Tarn’s voice was less steady than he would have liked when he responded. “Would it be entirely surprising if this was erotic to me as well? Would it disgust you to know that any surgery you perform on me, whether it be medically necessary or not, gets my gears grinding?”

Pharma let out a shaky ex-vent and Tarn’s spark lept in manic victory, this was making him overheat as well. Good. It was satisfying that it was mutual. Pharma finished hooking up the T-cog but when he activated it something wasn’t programmed correctly and it sputtered angrily in Tarn’s chest. Pharma let out a string of curses as he fixed whatever it was that went wrong. The cog began to hum effectively in his chest but when Tarn looked down at Pharma his hands were covered in pink energon. 

“Oh.” Was all he could get out before Pharma quickly turned and made to flee.

Before he could though Tarn reached out and grabbed his arm stopping him. Their optics met and Tarn didn’t need to beg, Pharma hated begging, he knew what he wanted. Suddenly his dexterous hands were back inside Tarn’s chest, pulling and tugging and then slowly tearing into his energon lines. They spurted bright magenta blood up Pharma’s forearms and he shuddered at the sight. Tarn splayed his legs wide and let his array panel slide open to reveal his aching wet valve.

Pharma shook his head slowly as climbed up onto the examining table on top of Tarn, straddling his hips, above his array. Tarn looked up at him, momentarily confused before it clicked. Pharma’s array slid back to reveal his fully pressurized blue and white spike, he stroked it once licking his lips as his energon splattered hands coated his spike in blood. Tarn made some sort of unintelligible whine as Pharma plunged his spike into his innards. 

He leaned forward and brought his lips to Tarn’s audials as he pumped his spike up into the wire, tubes, and struts surrounding his spark and T-cog. “ You’re mine. You belong to me now. It’s laughable that you thought you could avoid this.”

Tarn sputtered but he was still himself even under all the tremendous tugging and tearing pain he was in right now. “My spark belongs to the Decepticon cause and only the cause.”

Pharma rolled his cold blue optics and sneered. “Fine then your body is mine; to rebuild and destroy as many times as I desire. Do you agree?”

He couldn’t really form the words so he nodded and that was enough for Pharma. He felt him dig his fingers into the casing surround his T-cog, a quick scratch of peeling metal against metal and then he tore out one of his fuel lines and dragged it with him as he crawled down Tarn’s body. The pain was brilliant in a way that had been strangely dulled when they had been doing this as organic holoforms. 

The fuel line was pumping pink energon in quick spurts as Pharma tugged harder and pulled the whole thing out with a screeching tear. Tarn groaned at the bloom of agony. He wasn’t about to stop though as Pharma lifted his hips, tugging his legs high over hips and driving his energon smeared spike deep into Tarn’s valve. Tarn cried out and tried not offline his optics as he watched Pharma wrap his viscera around his hand and lick the energon off it, all the while pumping his spike further and further past the calipers in the rings of Tarn’s slick valve. He was losing energon at a fairly rapid rate and his HUD informed him that if he didn’t stop the bleed soon he would black out but he was so close and so full of Pharma’s spike he needed all of this. 

Pharma grunted and pushed all the way into him while he pulled Tarn up by his shoulder, their faces now touching forehead to forehead as he pumped into him. Tarn let him remove his faceplate when Pharma grabbed it and tore it off. He was getting weaker and wasn’t sure he could move his arm to stop him. Pharma smashed their mouths together biting and licking into his. Their mouths tasted like his own energon, he groaned. He felt Pharma smirk against his mouth. Then he murmured “mine” as he fisted his hand hard into Tarn’s guts. 

His overload completely whited out his systems. 

He was also pretty sure the whole base heard his shriek if not with their audials then with their sparks as that was how Tarn’s outlier ability worked. He wasn’t sure how long he was offlined but when he came to it was as Kaon and Helex burst into the medical bay, weapon’s drawn. He watched their faces go from angry to shocked and heard Pharma growl at them, it reverberated through his overstimulated valve as Pharma’s spike was still inside him, even as he could feel his deft hands repairing the internal damage he had just done to him. 

He turned to Kaon and Helex and waved at them weakly. “It’s fine. Leave us.” 

They quickly backed out of the room and almost ran away down the hallway. Tarn smirked at that then he heard Pharma let out a short dark chuckle at their exit. 

His voice was rough when he said. “This is gonna be fun to explain to your subordinates later.”

Tarn waved at him dismissively and mumbled. “They won’t need to be told anything as they’ve done worse with each other or that pet of theirs I’m quite sure.”

Now it was Pharma’s turn to huff dismissively. But Tarn wasn’t done yet, he grabbed Pharma’s wrist where it was fiddling away with something inside of him and said, “Do you...did you, frag it, do you ever overload with me?”

Pharma froze and then let out a hiss of ex-vent heat before murmuring. “No. I don’t like losing control like that when I’m with you.”

Tarn wasn’t sure what to make of that but he didn’t have a chance to ask as Pharma sealed his chest plating back together while huffing. “There. Good as new. Mostly.”

He grinned too widely at that last bit and Tarn let his chest plate slide open and looked at his reflection in the monitor over the operating table, written backwards in the reflection where several Cybertronian characters that spelled Mine. He shivered and noticed Pharma smirk as he slid his chest plating back shut again. 

Pharma turned his back on Tarn and began to wash all his energon off his hands. When he turned back to face him his blue optics were dark and burning. Tarn had picked his faceplate back up off the ground and was about to put it back on when Pharma stopped him. He leaned forward and pulled Tarn down to kiss him hard.

He bit his lip and pulled back from him. “Maybe if you let me tear out some of your inner workings I’ll let you watch me overload sometime. But it will never be because of you.”

Tarn tried to reach down and capture Pharma’s mouth again but he slipped away further out of his grip and grinned manically. Tarn sullenly snapped his faceplate back in place and Pharma cackled as he made his way out the door and down the hallway out of the DJD’s base. This was going to maddening. And interesting. They still had 36 traitors left on the list but this diversion was the most interesting he’d taken in years. 

He could work like this.


End file.
